


What Keeps Us Up

by M_Lynd



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Draco Malfoy & Harry Potter Friendship, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, M/M, POV Draco Malfoy, Plot Twists, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-14
Updated: 2018-02-10
Packaged: 2018-08-15 01:39:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8037217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/M_Lynd/pseuds/M_Lynd
Summary: Draco Malfoy is forced to return to Hogwarts for 8th year. It is continuously difficult to concentrate with his night terrors never ceasing and his safety at stake. His frequent run ins with Harry Potter test his friendships, but maybe they could save his life.





	1. Ch 1

**Author's Note:**

> this is a wip, I'd been writing it for literal months when my online drive decided the last 2 chapters I wrote didn't happen. So I'm posting now. You're kind words will inspire me to write more frequently so get typing!
> 
> ****** A SPECIAL THANKS TO BORDERJ95 AND POTTERGERMS OVER ON TUMBLR FOR HELPING ME OUT WITH READING AND DISCUSSING THEORIES!

The world outside surrounded him again, trees whizzing past him in a grey blue as his legs carried his heavy body as fast as they could. This had happened before. He had to get away, but it was too late. He fell upon stone tiles in a study, dark and cold, his knees pressed firmly into the floor, indented by every flaw in the stone. High pitched, cackling laughter filled his ears as white hot pain took over his eyesight and flowed like fire through his veins. Suddenly he was standing again, but he knew what was coming, this was the worst part. His hand outstretched before him held his wand, his surroundings were dark again. Behind the grey old man in front of him there were only the moon and stars. Draco knew he was not speaking but it was his voice that rang out now, “You don’t know what I’ve done!” Then he fell, and fell, and fell before fire erupted around him, and he reached out. An offered hand of safety grappled for him, to pull him away from the gurgling fire, but he pushed it away and let himself be engulfed by the flames.  
Draco opened his eyes to the moonlight, it was shining through the tower window, pale and accented by the blue sparkling sky around it. His heart was pounding as he sat up to check the other bodies around him were still safely in their beds, eyes straining through the dark as he watched to see that they still breathed. These weren’t dead bodies surrounding him, he was okay. Willing his heart to still he stood shakily, his feet unsure of the solid ground. He looked through the window at the moon, and it was something to get used to on most nights, opposing the soft green the dungeon windows reflected from the lake surrounding the old Slytherin dorms. He was in the eighth year dorms now, there were no Slytherin, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, or Gryffindor houses between the eighth year students. Around him slept 2 former Gryffindors: Neville and Ron, a former Ravenclaw: Cho, and a former Slytherin: Pansy. He didn’t much look forward to sharing a room with Neville and Ron, but was happy to have Pansy at his side in a moment’s notice. The pair were easily the least liked amongst the eighth years. Draco was disliked for, well, for pretty much everything. Pansy was infamous for when she tried to give up Potter to the Death Eaters. She was as ambitious as any Slytherin Draco knew, but he was almost certain she would never do anything to harm him.  
Wringing his hands to steady his shaking Draco wondered what time it was, and how much sleep he had gotten, if any, before his nightmares took over his mind. As he rest his head against his pillow once more, it was for nothing. Every time he closed his eyes the forest would flash around him again, willing him to run.  
Coming down the staircase he stopped as he saw fire light. His hand gripped hard onto the rail, turning his knuckles white. He peeked his head around the corner to see who was there, and held his breath to hear what they might be up to. Studying the scene hard, it appeared that someone was sitting at the table closest to the fire place, simply staring off. As Draco tried to focus on who it might be he heard a hard sniff and the clank of a glass being sat down. The light from the fire silhouetted the man’s form. Draco tried to get closer but as he eased his foot down to the next step, and weight of his foot was fully placed on the step, it creaked and turning to look at him was Harry Potter.  
Draco watched not sure of what to do next, he knew he looked suspicious, and knew that Potter was the first person on the list of people who thought Draco was up to something. Harry dragged the back of his hand across his cheek as his body stiffened at the sight of Draco.  
“Can I help you?” Harry asked firmly, his other hand laid tightly over his wand on the table, and empty glass behind it.  
Draco thought hard for a moment, not sure of what to say. He was shaking again, and the raise of Harry’s eyebrows urged him to answer. He threw his hands up in peace, but desperate to maintain his cool demeanor he replied, “I’m not up to something, if that’s what you’re thinking, Potter.” He knew he wasn’t convincing, his voice sounded hoarse and in pieces. He settled on omission, “I- couldn’t sleep.” Then he watched as Harry’s body relaxed, his shoulders falling and his hand leaving his wand to sit on the table, untouched.  
“I feel you there,” Harry said slowly before he turned back to the fire.  
Draco stood in the silence for a moment, watching the room and listening to the crackle of the fire. He walked closer to the fireplace to warm himself a little, and once he sat down, he felt uneasy. The back of his skull felt transparent, like he was being watched. Carefully he turned his head to Harry, who was rubbing his eyes and forehead, seemingly exasperated. In the silence he heard the creak of the stairs. It was the same step that had alerted Harry of his presence. Harry and Draco both jolted their heads around to see who was coming down, but when their eyes met the spot that a body must have been they saw no one and only heard quiet steps making a quick retreat back up the stairs.  
“Looks like we’re not the only ones who can’t sleep.” Harry joked in a plain, and solemn manner.  
“How long have you been down here?” Draco asked, suspicious, or just curious.  
“Well, I haven’t been up.” Harry turned to Draco. His glasses were off now, placed beside of him on the table.  
Draco looked over Harry’s face and saw bags under his eyes. His eyes seemed wet, and it made the green in them stand out. He saw how tired Harry was, saw his grief and suffering plainly for what it was. Draco was not going to feel guilty for him, not for The Chosen One. Brave Potter who saved so many people, the Wizarding World’s Savior. “Lucky you,” he drawled, and it sounded much more like himself than he cared to admit to.  
Harry looked to the window to find the sun making its appearance, “I suppose now would be a good time to go up then,” and Draco watched as he placed his glasses back on his face, his wand back in his muggle jeans’ pocket, and left for the stairs.

  
A few hours later Draco sat alone in the Great Hall eating his breakfast. Mostly, his long fingers aided the fork in pushing food around on his plate. It had been 5 months since The Battle of Hogwarts, and Draco was impressed with the rehabilitation of the school when he came back. However, every piece inside of him still felt scrambled. Small shards of glass, so many it felt as though he’d never gather them together again. Draco and his family spent the weeks and months following The War in the lower floor of the ministry, being interrogated, reliving the darkest corners of his memory. He spent the time there with tear-stained cheeks, red eyes, and a hoarse voice. Dementors filled the room, adding to the layers of dread and misery that filled the room like a thick and chilling fog.  
The hollow sound of the table as a plate was sat beside of him snapped him out of his daze. Draco looked up to see Pansy joining him at the table. Her shoulder length black hair was different than Draco had been used to seeing it. What once was a sleek and angular bob, was now usually knotted, and wavy. Her entire family had been killed in the war for fighting beside Voldemort. Draco wasn’t sure that she’d have come back to school if she hadn’t moved in with him and his mother.  
Ruefully he often wished his Father had died rather than being imprisoned in Azkaban. The image of his father’s elaborate tombstone, Lucius laid to rest 6 feet under put Draco more at peace than the image of his angular body thinning to a tall and frail skeleton. His hair dirty and unkempt, his light blue eyes greying and lifeless.  
“Blaise was waiting for you in the common room.” She snarled. He wasn’t used to this either. Her tone with him was usually softer, sad, but softer. What she had just said to him was harsh and sharp.  
“Oh. Is he still?” Draco asked, watching her push around her dishes and silverware aggressively as she settled herself in at the Slytherin table.  
“No, I told him not to bother. You weren’t in our room when I got up.” Pansy’s brown eyes were avoiding him now, focused down at her plate as she too, only managed to push her food around.  
“Couldn’t sleep, came down early.” Draco replied to her plainly, unsure of why she was so acting so strange.  
“I saw you in the common room with Potter.” Her eyes finally met Draco’s but they were pointed and the look on her face told him that she was mad about this. `  
“Potter?” He questioned her, shocked by her accusatory tone. It must have been her they had heard. “He couldn’t sleep either. So what?”  
“Are you just going to go hanging around The Scarhead now?”  
Honestly, Draco was not sure why she was suddenly so hostile where it concerned Harry. Sure, they had always joined in on a laugh over him, but never had Draco heard this level aggravation in her voice. “Yes, Pansy, we were having a spot of tea. I am elated that you noticed, now next time we can invite you to the party.” He scoffed at her. “What is your deal?”  
“Nothing,” was all she said as the jumped up from the table and made for the doors.


	2. Ch 2

Three days went by with no sleep, an aggressive Pansy, and awkward five minute encounters with Harry in the common room. When Draco awoke the fourth night it was from the fire again. Ritually Draco checked all the bodies in his room for signs of life. Equally relieved to find each night that they were all breathing, soundly in their beds, except one. Pansy was missing from her bed. Draco jumped up, and rushed to the Common Room to find it empty. Possibly, she just went to the bathroom. His heart rate slowed, though the pounding of it was beating against his ribcage like Cornish Pixies trying to escape their confines.  
Sitting at the rounded table, where Harry usually sat he looked around the room. He noticed the color scheme of the room was un-matching to any of the school houses. Without any distractions he could now take note of the various shades of purple that filled the room, accented with oak wood instead of the expensive silvers and the rich mahogany of the Slytherin dungeons. He didn’t miss them much, to his surprise. In the morning, or in the middle of the day the sun shone through the tall and open windows of the tower. It warmed him to sit in a patch of sun and read, or do his class work. Sitting there in the sun made his heart feel softer. It was a nice change after he spent years in the dungeons, and the whole of the summer in court, and if not in court then his dark and empty manor.  
It pained him to watch his Mother in those months. Her cheeks hollowed, and her eyes defeated. She put herself up in her room, and stayed there. The house elves kept after the manor, and made all of their meals. One of the only things that kept Draco present since the war was taking breakfast and dinner to his Mother. He would carry her tray to her in bed, and as she sat up he would open up the curtains. Narcissa followed him with her eyes, wet and blood shot. Draco sat on the edge of his Mother’s bed and asked her to eat.  
“Please, Mother.” He would plead, gentle and quiet. His heart ached to see her like this. She would say nothing, a simple tear falling down her cheek. “For me?” He’d ask, and she would smile.  
More tears always came. She would eat her toast and a bit of whatever fruit the elves had prepared for her, and when she was done she would hold Draco tight to her chest. She always cried silently, not one to make a show of it, Draco kept his arms tight around her until both of their tears ceased to fall.  
“I love you,” Draco told her as he kissed her on the forehead and took her tray away. When he came back for dinner, it was the same.  
Sitting in the empty common room Draco ran his hands over his face and through his hair, and thought about the visits he had with his mother before he left for school. “I can’t go back. I can’t leave you here. I won’t.” Draco tried earnestly to be stern with his Mother, but her small and simple smile always could instantly crumble his resolve.  
Narcissa would run her hand over her son’s cheek, wiping away his frown. “My dear Draco, I will be alright. Your education is much more important.”  
The final decision that Draco would return to Hogwarts was made just two weeks before the start of term. Narcissa sat straight in her bed, and when Draco entered for dinner the curtains were already open. Narcissa sat at her desk, writing a letter. She looked much more like herself. Her blonde hair tame and straight down her black, an elegant braid placed in the middle. Her cheeks were blushed, and she was properly dressed.  
“Mother?” Draco called for her.  
“Yes. Come here, Draco.” She smiled at him. “I have good news.” Draco walked to her side, quietly and placed his hand to her shoulder, giving her an affectionate squeeze. “I’ve been writing to Andromeda.”  
“Oh?” He questioned her. He tried to conceal his surprise but knew it was useless by her reply.  
“Why, yes.” She smiled softly. “We’ve been writing each other for a few days. We have settled our differences.” Draco thought that meant she must have apologized. “We are going to France to stay during the school year. It seems we both have been holed up, and it is doing neither of us any good. So we will come together again, there has been too much division in this world, not to mention our family alone, and it is time to reconcile our differences.”  
“And what about Theodore? I imagine it will not be easy to go on Holiday with an infant.”  
“Oh, Draco,” She chided. “You should call him Teddy, he is your cousin after all. Besides, I think it will give us something to look forward to.  
This memory had Draco thinking of when he was a child. His mother treated him like treasure. Coddling and spoiling him, but she never hurt when Draco chased after his father’s affection. Tears were staining his cheeks now as he bowed his head. The choked back sound of his sob took premise over the sound of someone entering the room and he jumped as a hand warmed his shoulder.  
“Are you alright?” Harry asked lightly.  
Draco looked up at him, and saw the concern and pity in his eyes. He resented Harry for it. He didn’t want anyone’s pity, especially not Potter’s. Draco unwillingly waved the unpleasant thoughts from his mind, he was too tired to be witty and snarky, and he wiped his cheeks with the backs of his hand as he quietly answered, “Yeah.”  
“Well, I have something for you.” Draco looked up at Harry quizzically, what could he have for him? He watched as Harry silently reached into his pocket and drew two wands. Draco thought for a moment to flee, and he nearly jumped from his seat, but he stilled as he watched Harry’s hand stretch out, offering one of the wands. It was Draco’s Hawthorne wand. Draco could feel its magic though he had yet to touch it.  
“Are you sure?” Draco asked, he was afraid it would no longer work for him.  
“Yeah, it’s yours after all. I only borrowed it. It was a good wand, but I got mine fixed, so I wanted to give this back to you.”  
“But I don’t know that-“  
“Just give it a go.” He urged, pushing the wand into Draco’s hand. Draco’s wand immediately recognized him and it was like they never parted. He had assumed that it would not work for him again after doing great things with Harry, that it would forever choose the better wizard. Draco shook the thought from his head, his wand was still his. He stood up and thought of the first happy memory he could find. Images of the great hall swirled like smoke in front of him as he sat in a stool, the sorting hat coming down on his head. He hadn’t even felt it touch him as he heard “SLYHTERIN!” ring out around him. His father would be so proud, and he tried to cast a patronus. Being around so many dementors had inspired Draco to learn the elaborate and beautiful protective charm. He hoped his wand would make it possible for him to do it, maybe it hadn’t worked because he’d been using Narcissa’s wand. He’d been scouring his mind for his happiest memories, but it was hard when he had to sort through the previous year first.  
Draco was disappointed when all that he could muster up was a small ball of light at the end of his wand, like a weak and dim lumos. Still, it was an improvement from nothing happening at all.  
Draco looked at Harry, who was smiling back at him, and shrugging. “Mine hasn’t been working properly either, it’s okay.” Harry said sympathetically.  
They sat back down together at the table, and Draco kept his wand in his hand. He was elated to have it back, his mother’s never worked properly for him, and he could send it by owl to her in the morning. She had no complaints about using Lucius’s wand, but Draco thought she might still want hers.  
“What are you doing down here?” Harry asked.  
Draco knew it was the easiest way to start something resembling a conversation between them, so normally he obliged, but Harry had just reminded him that he was looking for Pansy. Surely if she were in the restroom she would have come back out by now. “I was looking for Pansy, she wasn’t in bed when I looked for her. Have you seen her?”  
“Sorry.” Harry shrugged his shoulders.  
“I’ve got to go find her,” Draco said standing up.  
“You want some help?”  
Draco looked down to his wand, feeling grateful to have it back. “Sure, you can tag along, just don’t get in my way, Potter,” he sneered with a smile.  
“I’ll try,” Harry said with a mock serious expression.  
They walked together silently in the through the halls. Draco felt helpless, Hogwarts was so big that there would be no way to find Pansy if she were out here. At any moment she could be back in bed and they would have missed her. Harry asked Draco about his summer, and he didn’t know what to say. He wouldn’t want to tell Harry about court, and his father, and his mother. Wouldn’t want his pity, so he said, “It was fine, considering.”  
Harry just gave Draco a knowing look and nodded.  
Out of politeness Draco figured he should ask the same thing, and Harry talked about staying with the Weasleys, instead of Grimmauld Place. Mentioned spending a lot of time alone in the house. Letting the family mourn over their loss, and trying to keep distant from Ginny.  
“I thought the two of you were an item.” Draco said, studying Harry out of the corner of his eye. Harry kept casual about everything, making a show to seem like everything was normal and not completely bonkers.  
“We were, before I left for hiding with Ron and Hermione we split up. Haven’t gotten back together.”  
“Ohh.” Draco said, suspiciously. He thought that was odd. Harry and the Weasley girl were together nonstop pretty much before the war.  
“What about you and Pansy? I see you’re still together? Must be nice to have a room together?” Harry questioned, elbowing Draco playfully.  
Draco coughed at the question. “What?!” His eyes wide open, “No!” he exclaimed waving his arms in front of him. “We were never together!”  
“I mean, on the train, I saw you… you were in her lap.”  
“She’s like my sister, are you mad?!”  
“I don’t know Draco, I reckon a lot of guys wouldn’t lay in a girls lap, letting them play with their hair unless there was something there.” His eyes were disbelieving and his mouth grinning, straight and bright teeth offering laughter.  
“Wow! I really didn’t think this needed explaining to anyone again, but I’m gay you big ponce!” Draco’s arms were crossed in front of him, his chin high. He watched as Harry’s body went rigid, he cheeks and neck flush.  
“Oh.” He said simply. “Sorry.”  
“Well, as long as you’re not going to be a prat about it, I don’t care.”  
“No, I- I don’t mind. I don’t mind at all. It doesn’t matter to me. Dean and Seamus are my close friends.”  
“Yeah, poor choices for friends too.” Draco drawled as he rolled his eyes.  
“Watch it, Malfoy.”  
But Draco just replied with a small laugh. “I really don’t care.” Draco looked around. This was a waste of time. “Let’s head back. We’ve probably missed her.”  
“Right.” Harry agreed, and he stepped aside to allow Draco to pass.  
Draco stood in the dark. “Are you coming back with me?” Draco asked looking back to Harry, who was never 5 or 6 feet behind him, standing in a patch of moonlight from the widow beside him.  
“No.” He said quickly and was met by a wide eye expression from Draco. “Er- Sorry. No, I think I’ll stay behind, head to” he paused for barely a second, “the bathroom.”  
“Listen, Potter,” Draco spat, “if this is about me being g-,“ and as Draco looked over Harry’s shoulder he saw a bright stream of red light heading toward them. Like a second nature Draco ran forward and drew his wand, barely in time to shout, “Protego!” and shield the both of them. Draco looks past the gleaming shield to spot his attacker, but saw no one there, just the sound of running footsteps.  
Still in the dark his eyes searched for a person to place the blame on, “Are you alright?” he asked back to Harry but when he didn’t reply he turned round. “Potter!” Leaning down Draco grabbed Harry by his shirt, he was stunned. He hadn’t cast the charm fast enough. They had missed Draco and hit Harry. “Help!” he hollered but no one was there to hear. Draco stood, shaking. What was he to do, what could he possibly do?! He shook his head looking around to find an answer. All he could think to do now was run. 


	3. Run

Draco’s heart was pounding as he ran, his breaths were shallow, and his lungs ached. He ran down 5, 6, 7 flights of stairs to reach the dungeons. He was no longer in Slytherin House but where else would he turn? No one else would really believe that Harry was not stunned by Draco himself. He pounded on Slughorn’s door. “Help! Sir! Please! I need your help?”   
Abruptly the door in front of him swung open, Slughorn’s arm reaching around Draco’s shoulder t draw him in. “My dear boy, whatever is the matter?” His voice blanketed by concern and weary.   
“Potter! On the 7th floor! Someone has stunned him! Please help!” Draco was facing the older man now, his blue round eyes were open in shock, his jaw slack. Draco’s hands were clutching at the collar of his robe, and Slughorn placed his hands over Draco’s to stop the young boy from shaking him.  
“And you came all the way down he-“  
“I didn’t know what to do. Everyone else-“ Draco’s words were punctuated by gasping and heaving breaths.  
“I quite understand boy. Let’s go, hurry now.” And Draco was led up the stairs by Slughorn, recounting what had happened.   
“We were looking for Pansy. I got up and thought she had been to the bathroom but she was taking so long, so we went to look for her quickly. We were about to head back when someone tried to attack me, I tried to shield us, but I was too late. They missed and hit Harry.” Draco was so busy with his thoughts, his heart still pounding, he didn’t even noticed he had called him Harry aloud and not Potter.   
“Oh boy. Well we will need to take him to Madam Pomfrey.”  
Inside the infirmary Draco recounted what had happened, again, to Madam Pomfrey and to Headmistress McGonagall. When he was finished the nurse looked between the boys and said to Draco, “It is a good thing Mr. Potter was with you tonight Mr. Malfoy,” and she walked away to gather her supplies.   
Professor McGonagall looked to Draco knowingly as his face felt hot and was surely red as he thought to himself. No. Harry is the lucky one, Draco had just made sure he was safe. Got him help to the hospital. It was bloody, stupid Potter that hadn’t tried to protect them.   
“The day is soon to begin, Mr. Malfoy. I suggest you get yourself some breakfast before your classes start.” McGonagall dismissed him, and he stood to make his way out. “You did a fine job last night. You will tell me who it was that attacked you, if you remember anything, I hope.”  
“Yes, I will, Professor.” He replied, and when he looked up to see if he was dismissed he saw her narrowed eyes and pursed lips, “Uh- Headmistress.”

“Very well, Malfoy,” her eyes and face relaxed. “After classes, come by my offices. I expect you’ll understand.”

“Yes, ma’am.” 

 

Back in his dorms, Draco rushed to prepare his things for class, Pansy and Blaise behind him chattering like cats. 

“I heard someone took Potter down this morning, stupid prat. It’s about time someone gave him what he deserves.” It was Pansy, her sharp and pointed voice nearly spitting the words out as if they were bile.

“Bloody right, Pans.” It was Blaise this time, his voice calm and cool, as it almost always was. “It was a bit boring around here, it's about time it got spiced up.”

Draco felt his face growing hot and his chest growing tight. He turned on them, midst throwing his books from yesterday out of his bag. “They were after me, you idiots. They were after me, and hit Harry on accident. Do you still think its funny, huh? Think its funny that after all of this time, after everything that's gone on, that we are still in danger. In danger at school, of all places.”

Pansy's eyes showed the shock on her face, and her jaw slackened as it fell open. Draco took turns looking to each of them for a reply, waiting for what they had to say. 

Blaise was still calm and cool, his face was even, apathetic. “Right, mate. Hadn’t thought of that one. We didn’t even know you were with him, did we Pans?” He elbowed her lightly, to get her to speak up, urging the uncomfortable silence over.

Pansy jolted at the touch and looked quickly between the both of them. “No! We didn’t know!” She paused, still glancing between the two of them. Draco knew he had blown up on them, it wasn’t their fault, they didn’t knew he had been with Harry, it was an unlikely, and impossible idea that he had been with Harry. He felt guilt creep in on him and swell in his chest.

“Sorry,” it was a mumble. “Let’s go, please.”

 

The rest of the day was spent in anxiety. He knew McGonagall would have to report this to his probation board, the people watching him closely for misconduct and suspicious behavior. He suspected that McGonagall believed him, and that what a miracle on its own, there was no way that anyone else would ever believe that it wasn’t Malfoy who stunned The Hero. All day he’d heard whisperings in the hallways as he passed, “Yeah, him.. still after Potter. Can’t believe they’d let … back into the school.” Draco knew how it looked, a slytherin, a old death eater, in the hall alone, at night, with the Chosen One. It looked bad, it looked positively damning. Not a soul would believe they were on a friendly midnight stroll, chatting as if nothing tainted had ever transpired between them. 

Draco’s gut rumbled as he knocked on McGonagall’s door, it felt like he'd been eating quick dry cement all day. When he entered her study, he found it to be a shock. It was different from before, and now that he thought of it, of course it would be. The room was less disheveled. It was neat, and organized. Somehow it resembled a neat and orderly oddity house. Only instead of taxidermy littering the room, covering the shelves and walls were live owls, and cats. Pictures scoured the walls of former Headmasters. He looked around at all of them, and the thought of them made him nauseous. Then his gaze was caught in the sheen of pale, grey eyes, peering at him with sad discern behind half moon spectacle and untamed eyebrows. He felt as though his vision was darkening and he would fall over before he felt a small touch to his back, and a soft voice behind him. “Mr. Malfoy,” it was McGonagall, and even as her concern made the inside of Draco’s ears boil, he was happy for the distraction. “Are you okay, Draco?” 

“I’m fine,” he swallowed, and was led to a seat across from her desk and sat gingerly down.

“You understand that I had to report what happened to Mr. Potter today, don’t you?” She was always so formal. Draco nodded, and kept quiet, preparing himself for the oncoming collision. “I also believe that you understand what most people are going to say this looks like?” Another short nod. McGonagall replied with a short, “Mm. Well, then we will get right to it.

“They were not pleased at all. I talked to the board for quite some time, they do believe they should be suspicious of you.” When Draco looked up at her, she was eyeing him suspiciously, trying to take measure of him. “They are of the mind that they should pull you immediately, no questions asked.” Her words were coming faster now, and he detected annoyance behind her curt tone. “They fear you pose a threat to this school, and the students inside of it.” Quiet. She was waiting for him to say something, to make his case, to argue against their accusations. But he couldn’t. He was scared, he didn’t feel safe here, he felt alone and wanted badly to go home. At the realisation of his fear, his eyes began to burn, and his throat felt as though it was swelling, trying to swallow his tongue. He had no case to make, people were afraid of him, angry at him, hated him. He was a death eater, a slytherin, a Malfoy. “Draco,” she called for his attention but he couldn’t bring himself to look at her. “Draco, look at me.” Fighting through his shame, and fear, he did. “Draco, I talked them down. I know you did not harm Harry. He is going to be okay, I assure you. He will be waking up soon, and I asked the board to wait for him to give his side.”

For a second, he wasn’t sure he heard her right, but when the side of her small mouth went up into a soft smile of assurance all he could say is, “What?”

“Yes, Draco. I talked to them. Afterall, it wouldn’t be nearly very fair to accuse you of attacking someone before hearing their side. Would it? So, I’m going to be speaking to Mr. Potter this evening, and getting his side of things. Then I will be asking him to make a statement to the board.” She smiled fully and kindly at him now, “Don’t worry, Draco.

“As for the unpleasant business of the two of you being attacked, I assure you I will get to the bottom of this. I know there are some concerning hostilities toward you and your family, draco, but I will not let this go unmentioned. Have faith.”


End file.
